


Dancing in the Rain

by AfricanDaisy, KayleeArafinwiel



Series: The Iathrim Chronicles [13]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood, Dancing, Discipline, Father-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Original Character(s), Paddling, Rain, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfricanDaisy/pseuds/AfricanDaisy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For what may be the last time if Neldiel's parents have their way, and may not be the last if she has hers, she indulges in her favourite pastime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Neldiel is now the equivalent of fifteen in human years. Since my last posting, we have renamed our series The Iathrim Chronicles. Although our stories do slowly lead up to the Second Age and Greenwood the Great, it didn't seem right to keep it as The Greenwood Chronicles when so much of our writing explores Doriath. I hope to post the next story within the next couple of weeks!

Rain lashed the window, incessant and unceasing, as the wind howled like some ghostly wolf. Thunder rolled in the distance. It had been storming like this all day, as soon as dawn had broken. Indeed it had woken young Lady Neldiel, but she hadn’t minded in the slightest. She had just snuggled into her warm blankets, feeling cosy and safe, and after a while she had closed her eyes and let herself be lulled back to sleep by the sound of pouring rain. She loved thunderstorms, just as her elder sisters did not, and even as a little elfling she had often sneaked outside to dance in the rain – much to the displeasure of her noble parents, and once or twice even to the King’s.

Yes, Neldiel loved the rain, but as she struggled to focus on her homework about the founding of Doriath, she wished that the weather’s wild behaviour would stop just for a time. It was altogether too distracting. She didn’t think that anyone could expect her to finish her assignment when the elements were so at war with one another, but she also knew that that would never be considered a good enough excuse for _not_ finishing. With a scowl that turned her lips into a pout, she threw her owl-feather quill down and rocked back on her chair so she could stare out of the window. It was the brightest part of the day, when the Stars of Varda blazed and set everything alight. Or rather, it _should_ be; even they were dimmed by the miserable clouds, dark and grey and tempestuous.

The manicured garden was soaked and waterlogged, and the paved area where Lord Brandir and Lady Siliveth entertained guests on fine evenings was covered in a glistening sheen of rain. It was like one giant puddle, Neldiel reflected. Her stomach twisted suddenly in excitement. If there was one thing she knew about puddles – and she did know a lot – it was that they were there to be jumped in. She squirmed, gripping her skirt tightly as she resisted the urge to just leap up and run outside. She had to think it through first. She had to be sensible about this.

Her father was at council with _his_ foster-father the King, and her mother had accepted an invitation to take afternoon tea with Lady Aerdis and Lady Baraves at the palace. Neldiel didn’t have to worry about her sisters, for they were both attending Queen Melian. She didn’t expect anyone to be home until at least an hour or two before last meal. She bit her lip excitedly. If she sneaked outside and had a splash in the puddles, she could be back inside and having a hot bath, her clothes in the laundry, in no time at all. Nobody would be any the wiser, except certain of the servants, but they were generally quite fond of their youngest mistress and most of them wouldn’t go running to tell tales. Besides, maybe once she had got the splashing out of her system, she could finish her work. Surely that was a good reason if ever there was one. Not even Lord Brandir could argue with that.

Her mind made up, Neldiel abandoned the assignment and ran from the room, her bare feet quick and light on the stairs. She darted through a side door and stood in the middle of the paved courtyard, raising her hands up in the air and lifting her face to the skies. The wind whipped her coral pink skirt around her ankles and tangled her black locks, and she gasped as rain slid inside her bodice. It stung her eyes, and made her blink furiously. Suddenly she laughed and spun about in a circle, the hem of her gown skimming the surface of the puddles and sending water every which way.

Kicking and splashing and dancing, she jumped from puddle to puddle. Her gown had become heavy with rain and tendrils of hair stuck to her cheeks and dripped water down her back, but she didn’t care. She just laughed and laughed, feeling like the smallest and most carefree of elflings. Even if all didn’t go according to plan, even if she was caught, she knew that the punishment would be worth it, just like it had been years ago when she had sneaked away from a royal feast and had danced amongst the flowers with Princess Lúthien whilst rain poured around them.

Neldiel wasn’t sure how long she had been dancing in the rain before a servant ventured outside, but her legs were splattered with flecks of mud all the way up to her thighs. She was even starting to shiver a bit. When she caught sight of the servant, huddled by a rose trellis with her cloak drawn tightly around her, Neldiel stopped dead and stared for a moment. “Hello, Marillien!” she called, pitching her voice over the howling wind and giving a friendly wave. “Have you come to play?”

The older elleth came a little closer, gripping the hood of her cloak. “Lady Siliveth sent me to fetch you, my lady,” Marillien replied. “She came home early. She saw you. This.”

“Oh dear,” Neldiel said mildly.

“You might say that, my lady. She is rather vexed.” Before the girl could shrug her shoulders and start twirling again, Marillien guided her back inside; not through the door she had come out of a while before, but through a different one next to the kitchen that led into a small room with bare walls and a stone floor, with a supply of soft white robes folded on a shelf. “Clothes in the laundry basket, my lady. You know what your lord father and lady mother will say about trailing mud anywhere.”

Neldiel winced and started to undress as Marillien left her alone. She struggled a little with her gown, because it was so wet that it clung to her skin and the knots on the laces seemed to have shrunk so that she had to dig her nails into them to get them loose. She was down to her shift and underclothing when the inner door opened and her mother swept into the small room. “Just look at yourself, elfling!” Siliveth snapped, without preamble. “What were you _thinking_?”

“I thought…well, that I wanted to splash in the puddles, Nana,” Neldiel replied. “Didn’t you see me? Marillien said that you did.”

“Utterly _ridiculous_ behaviour.” Siliveth finished undressing the elfling herself, before wrapping her in a robe and propelling her to the door with a firm smack. “Upstairs with you, at once. You are going to have a hot bath and a good scrubbing right now. You will be _pristine_ before your father gets home.”

Neldiel thought that she could stand outside and let the rain stream over her and wash the mud off. Her mother might not appreciate the suggestion, she supposed. And a hot bath _did_ sound nice. She hastened to the marble-floored bathing chamber that joined her bedroom and Miniel’s, swiftly followed by Siliveth, and she found the bath already drawn, steaming and scented with fragrant herbs. She shed her soft robe and got in quickly, and despite the trouble she knew she was in, she couldn’t help squirming in delight and wiggling her toes as the heat of the water flooded her chilled body.

With her lips pressed together in a disapproving frown, Lady Siliveth removed her silver-grey outer gown with its pearl trim and wide sleeves, and took great care in setting it aside, well away from the bath. The sleeves of her amethyst coloured undergown were fitted, ending in points over the backs of her hands, and she carefully folded them a little way up her forearms before lathering the bath brush with a good amount of rose scented soap. She promptly set to work giving her youngest daughter a firm scrubbing, briskly erasing every inch of mud as though it personally offended her.

By the time Neldiel’s fair skin was immaculate, it was stinging and glowing a faint pink as well. She tried to keep her wriggling to a minimum, because she knew that her mother would think it an appropriate time to say something awful like the brush may sting now, but it was nothing to how it would sting when she used the other side of it. Even thinking that made her blush, and set her bottom to tingling unpleasantly. Lord Brandir was the disciplinarian – husbands and fathers traditionally were, in noble Doriathrin families – but Neldiel had a rather awful feeling that Siliveth would have something not-particularly-vocal to say, too.

She hadn’t wanted to be right, but she was. When Neldiel was clean all over and smelling of rose infused soap, Siliveth wrapped her in a towel before seating herself on a wooden stool by the bath. She guided her youngest daughter over her lap and wasted no time in folding the towel up. The bath brush was resting on the edge of the tub, and Siliveth took it in her right hand and lightly tapped the smooth back of it twice against Neldiel’s bottom, both gauging her aim and giving fair warning, before bringing it down more firmly on the already stinging flesh. “Nana!” the teenaged elfling cried out, her damp hair flying as she tossed her head up. Siliveth ignored that and placed a hand on Neldiel’s lower back to hold her still. She delivered five more smacks over the vulnerable cheeks, and they turned dark pink as the oval imprint of the brush made its mark.

“Nana, that _hurts!_ ” Wailing, Neldiel kicked her legs and tried to wriggle and writhe. She wouldn’t have dared to put on such a show if she was over Brandir’s lap; he knew her limits well enough to know an overreaction when he saw one. Indeed, Neldiel had thought that her father was the only one who could tell, but Siliveth wasn’t giving her any sympathy. “Nana, it hurts so much!” she added desperately.

“Spankings do tend to hurt,” her mother agreed calmly.

“But Ada’s going to s-spank me too!”

“It would absolutely be his right, and I would not at all be surprised if he exercises it,” Siliveth said. “You conducted yourself in a most unladylike manner today. There is all but the _slimmest_ of chances that you have not damaged your gown beyond repair. And I saw your assignment lying abandoned on your desk, unfinished – and, in fact, barely even started! Oh no, little girl,” Siliveth scolded, landing a flurry of smacks to Neldiel’s sensitive spots and at last hearing a genuine sob from her, “you will not be sitting easily once your father is finished with you, I am quite sure of that. You may, at least, be grateful that you shall avoid a paddling from him; I expect he will let this one stand.”

“I’m s-sorry for all those things!” Neldiel whimpered.

Siliveth sighed and set the bath brush down, regarding her daughter’s hair-curtained face with exasperation. “ _Neldiel_ …you must learn to think and use your common sense. I am sure you must have some.”

“I…I did think, Nana.”

“And what did you think?”

“I thought that I wanted to play,” Neldiel whispered. “In the puddles.”

Righting her daughter on her lap, Siliveth let the girl squirm about to find a somewhat comfortable way of sitting. “No, iel-laes. You must think about obeying the rules, about doing the proper things, no matter how fun you may find the _im_ proper things to be.”

“The proper things are so very dull,” Neldiel said with a sniffle.

“I see that you think so, no matter how you are lessoned,” Siliveth replied, her voice dry. “Still, they are expected of you. Remember who you are; the daughter of the King’s loremaster, who was fostered by Aran Elu and Bereth Melian themselves. That makes you as good as their granddaughter. You need to start behaving in a manner befitting your station.”

“Princess Lúthien used to jump in puddles,” Neldiel whispered.

“If she did, she grew out of it, as you ought to,” Siliveth said sharply. “Now, off to your bedroom with you.”

Neldiel went. She changed into a white nightgown that had little bluebells stitched around the hem and the sleeves, and lay on her bed to feel sorry for herself and methodically rub the throbbing ache from her bottom. Dinner was sent up for her a while later; a light but tasty meal of honeyed chicken broth with a slice of thick toasted bread dripping with butter. She had to smile a little, at that. It was what her parents ordered when she felt unwell, especially if she had caught a chill. She supposed that Siliveth was trying to preempt that, and she appreciated her mother’s attentiveness, even if she hadn’t thought so well of it when she had been having her bottom paddled.

Not long after a servant came to collect the dinner tray, Lord Brandir arrived. He swept into the bedroom and closed the door sharply behind him, but as he turned to face Neldiel, who stood a little straighter, she saw that he didn’t look particularly angry. Exasperated, yes; irritated, yes; furious, no. She relaxed a little. Her father was fair, and she hadn’t really expected him to give her another paddling on top of the one that Siliveth had delivered. Still, she was glad of the reassurance.

“Explain,” Brandir said succinctly.

“I wanted to splash in the puddles,” Neldiel replied. “I knew it was childish and inappropriate, but I still wanted to do it. So I did.”

Brandir folded his arms and regarded his daughter sternly, though the elfling could have sworn she had seen his lips twitch in a suppressed smile. “What were you instructed to do when we left you alone?”

“To do my homework and stay out of trouble,” Neldiel said dutifully.

“And did you complete your homework?” Lord Brandir’s sea green eyes narrowed as his child shook her head, though his expression didn’t change. “ _Clearly_ you failed to stay out of trouble. So, to begin with: you do not have lessons tomorrow, but even so you will rise early as if you did, and you will come with me to my study. You will finish your assignment, and then complete the rest of the work I set you. I believe a two page essay on why you ought not to jump in puddles will serve you well.”

Neldiel didn’t think there were enough reasons against jumping in puddles to fill one page, let alone two, but she didn’t dare argue. She focused her attention back on Brandir in time to hear his decree that she would spend the next two days inside and under house arrest, unless she was accompanied by either of her parents. “I understand,” she said, sighing softly.

“Good.” Brandir moved closer to his daughter and tucked a stray lock of black hair behind her pointed ear, stroking it down into place, before briefly resting his hand on her cheek. “I know you enjoy such…frivolity, iel-nín, but you must learn to show restraint. You are thirty-five now, not a little girl. It is time to stop this nonsense.”

Neldiel released another small sigh. Obviously her father had never jumped in enough puddles as an elfling. “I’ll try,” she replied quietly.

“Good girl,” Brandir said. “Now, get ready for bed and get some sleep.”

“Yes, Ada.” Neldiel automatically started to turn, but then she caught herself and gave her father a suspicious look. “Ada, you didn’t spank me.”

“It is unusual for your mother to take care of that,” Brandir allowed. “But she did. It is done with now.” He paused, one eyebrow lifting elegantly. “Unless, of course, you feel that you deserve more.” Neldiel’s hair flew, so vehemently did she shake her head, and the lord graced her with a faint smile. “Very well. Goodnight, iel-laes.”

Brandir kissed his daughter’s brow and left her alone, and in a matter of minutes Neldiel had readied herself for bed and slipped between the cool sheets. She settled on her side, grateful that her only pain was the lingering ache from Siliveth’s punishment. It would be all but faded when she woke in the morning. Snuggling into the bedcovers, she closed her eyes to the darkness of the room and slowed her breathing, listening in mellow contentment to the collision of rain and wind and distant thunder crashing together. It soothed her, and sent her into a deep sleep where she danced in the rain all night long. 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
